


A Conversation Worth Having

by EventHorizon



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: M/M, The Abominable Bride, pre-Mystrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-12 19:40:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5678200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EventHorizon/pseuds/EventHorizon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Mind Palace Mycroft and Mind Palace Lestrade had a small conversation about Mycroft’s little wager with Sherlock…</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Conversation Worth Having

      “Ah, Inspector Lestrade.  How good of you to accept my invitation.”

As if Mycroft Holmes offered any ‘invitations.’  When Lestrade got one of the small envelopes made of paper that cost a week’s wage, there wasn’t any question about his ability to refuse.

      “My pleasure, Mr. Holmes.  What can I do for you today?”

      “Oh, I was simply hoping for an affable conversation to bide away the afternoon.”

Mycroft chuckled at the highly incredulous look on Lestrade’s face and remembered that the Inspector was nobody’s fool.

      “Very well.  I am seeking a small overview of the current status of my brother and his new acquaintance.  You have engaged with them on multiple occasions and have, therefore, an expert opinion on the subject, or at least as expert as one can be for _any_ of Sherlock’s behaviors.”

This, at least, was something Lestrade completely understood.  It was what older brothers did – worry about the younger ones, and Mr. Holmes worried more than most.  Of course, he also had _more_ to worry about than most…

      “I think it’s been good for Sherlock, if that’s what you’re asking.  Doctor Watson is a solid, responsible man, but weathers Sherlock’s nonsense better than a body has a right to expect.  And he’s loyal… he’s proved that, I think, and it’s good for Sherlock to know there are people who are loyal to him.  Who’ll be there for him when he needs it, not that he’d admit he’d need and probably be rather rude about his not admitting anything…”

Mycroft thought a moment and enjoyed a lovely morsel of pheasant while he observed the man who clearly was put off by the rather enormous feast spread out around the even more enormous man in the chair.  Though there was something more in the mix and that was a decidedly intriguing conundrum.

      “I appall you, Inspector Lestrade.”

No, not quite.  He’d missed the target, though not by a terribly large margin.

      “No, sir.”

Say little, reveal little.  Inspector Lestrade was not entirely unknowing of basic verbal strategy and tactics, it seemed.

      “I would not be surprised, you know.  Or even offended!”

      “Be that as it may, sir, you don’t appall me.  Now, is there anything else?”

Oh, yes.  Yes, there is something else, because I now have the whiff of a mystery in my nose and that is more fragrant than any of the delicacies with which I am currently enlarging myself.

      “I believe there is.  I am now most curious about your mental musings on the subject of… well, of my rather mountainous bulk.  Please do clarify your position on the subject.”

      “It’s not for me to say, Mr. Holmes.  Not really my place or station, so if there’s nothing else…”

      “We are alone here, so any perceived impropriety or impertinence of your part shall remain entirely our secret.  Do elucidate your thoughts, if you would be so kind.  I am most interested in them.”

Mycroft watched the man fail to meet his eye and shuffle his feet slightly in the manner of someone with a wealth to say and absolutely no desire to say any of it.  This was positively wonderful!  It was pitifully rare that he was not able to read every thought, every idea in a man’s mind, but this situation was damnably confounding.  Simply joyful…

      “If I say, and say clearly that I’d rather not, would you honor that and not probe further, sir?”

      “Good heavens, no.  That shall only inspire my anticipation to even greater heights.”

      “Brilliant.”

Rubbing his hands together, then using them to lift a particularly nice port to sip, Mycroft greatly enjoyed the rampage of indecision on the Inspector’s face and prepared himself for a terribly amusing conversation.

      “Alright…”

There was nothing amusing about the ferocious glare Mycroft was given and it actually made the large man’s heart stutter in a somewhat alarming fashion.

      “…It won’t work.”

      “P…pardon?”

      “You trying to kill yourself so your brother finally leaps in to stop you.  To say he loves you and needs you.  It’s not going to work and all you’re going to do is end your life in a sad and pointless manner.”

Lestrade stepped forward in response to Mycroft’s loud choking, but stood his ground when waved off with the typical Holmes level of annoyance at being shown courtesy.  But, it was a good time to keep on speaking since this had been eating at his gut since Mr. Holmes started this ludicrous bit of insanity.

      “It is not going to work because Sherlock is brilliant, the most brilliant man I’ve ever met, next to you, but, for some things, you have to grab him, hold him still and spell things out in very small, clear words.  He doesn’t know how much you hurt.  He doesn’t see how what he says and does is like a blow to your heart and each one is a blow upon a darkening bruise that refuses to heal.  This isn’t going to work, Mr. Holmes.  What _will_ happen is that he’ll be there at your graveside and it will be the job of those of us who care about him to try and put him back together after he breaks into a thousand small, confused pieces.”

      ‘I… I have absolutely no idea… you are talking nonsense!”

      “No, I’m not.  I’ve known you for a good while, Mr. Holmes and I know that you and Sherlock are far smarter and more observant than me, that I’m an insect compared to you in terms of thinking, but… I’m a damn sight better than most regular people and I couldn’t miss your intentions if I tried.  I’ve heard him, seen him go at you and, to be honest, you seem to delight in provoking him, but there’s no missing the look in your eyes when he’s having a terrible go at your expense.  Just tell him.  Tell him how much you care, how deeply you worry.  Don’t make it a jest or a game.  Be honest and continue to be honest, straightforward, until it sinks into his skull.  It might not be simple or fast, but it will work worlds better than what you’re doing now.  This, this _horrifying_ plan, will fail and we’ll lose someone who… well, if there is a smarter, more interesting man in this world, I’d be honored to meet him.  There… I’ve said my piece.  If you’ll excuse me…”

Lestrade turned on his heel and only hoped he could make it to the door before a knife wedged between his shoulder blades or he was taken off my grim-faced men for a quick and private execution.

      “I… I do not consider you an insect, Inspector Lestrade.”

Now, it was the policeman’s turn to find his feet not quite on solid ground.

      “Excuse me?”

      “I do not hold you in that particular lack of regard.  You are one of the extremely rare, nearly singular, individuals in whom I place my trust.  You have proven to be a man of morals, without the impediment of believing the law to be a greater thing than the needs of order and have a strength of character and dedication that is most admirable.  Further… you recognize in Sherlock something special, and believe that specialness to have value.  You have endured him and endured _with_ him through many things that would see others racing for safer climes.  And… I have come to realize that you offer perspective on matters that do not align with my own, but illuminate an alternate trajectory of thought that I had failed to consider or considered, but disregarded., perhaps, to my detriment.  Not an insect, Inspector.  Kindly do not allow that thought to linger.”

      “Oh… thank you, sir.  That is… I do appreciate that.”

      “Is… is that along the lines of what you meant by honesty and straightforwardness?”

There was an actual hopefulness in Mycroft’s eyes that gave Lestrade hope this terrible situation might change and he let the tiniest bit of a smile reach his lips.

      “It is _exactly_ what I meant.  It’s hard, I suspect, for brothers to be that forthright with each other, I wouldn’t know exactly because I don’t have one, but it seems it would be.  However, I can’t imagine another fellow better capable of doing what’s not typically done and doing it marvelously than Mr. Mycroft Holmes.”

This time, it was Mycroft sporting the smallest of smiles and it was one only a single living person had ever seen – his real one.

      “Now it is my appreciation that must be extended.  Thank you, Inspector Lestrade.  I will reflect upon your words and give them the fullest of my attention.”

      “I’m glad, sir.  I’d truly hate for the next time I’m summoned here to be to establish that there wasn’t any misdeed associated with your death.”

      “Oh, if that is to be my fate, please cry to the heavens the heinousness of my murder and embellish with all possible detail, the more gruesome you concoct,  the more I shall send to you blessings from the great beyond.”

      “I’ll make note of that, sir.  Don’t worry, I promise to make it the sensationalist case of the century.  The newspapers will be giddy for a fortnight.”

      “Excellent.  Then, do not allow me to detain you, Inspector.  And enjoy the remainder of your day.”

      “I will, sir.  And I offer the same to you.”

Extinguishing the urge to bow, Lestrade nodded his goodbye and made for the door, this time certain he wouldn’t meet an untimely end before his hand touched wood.  Maybe his words would have some impact and maybe they wouldn’t, but he’d said them… something he’d wanted to do for a very long time.  London would be an uglier place without Mr. Holmes keeping his hands on the reins but… his own little world would be a good bit uglier, too.  It wasn’t often he met someone he could talk to about something other than the sorts of things a common policeman was _supposed_ to talk about and that was… nice.  At least there was a chance now he’d have that opportunity for some time to come…

Watching the Inspector take his leave, Mycroft had a rather extended mental conversation with himself and found, as always, a great deal of insight to be taken from the act.  No, Inspector Lestrade was not an insect, because those were laughably easy to ignore or squash and the man, certainly, could not be described in that fashion.  And… unquestionably, more thought would be required, a great deal more, but he could not dismiss Inspector Lestrade’s analysis out of hand.  It was… perceptive and that gave it a somewhat exalted standing, in his opinion.  Yes, thought… thought and…ooohhh… what a spectacular trifle beckoned just beyond the tips of his fingers.

Or… just thought.  Yes, thought was perfectly sufficient, on its own, for now…


End file.
